


An Abundance Of Everything That Starts With "L"

by PastelBlueDahlia



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Birthday Fluff, Birthday Party, Dorks in Love, I SWEAR TO GOD NO ANGST, Love Letters, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Viktor learned Japanese, happy crying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2019-02-10 05:06:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12904713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PastelBlueDahlia/pseuds/PastelBlueDahlia
Summary: Soon, way quicker than anyone will think because building something takes so much more time than destroying it and seeing in collapse into dust, there will be more cracking joints and hurting knees, and his pale bend body will be so battered from all the excessive amount of training training training and also living that it will be useless for the thing he loves. For the man he loves.- - - - -Where Viktor learns Japanese and surprises Yuuri on his birthday





	An Abundance Of Everything That Starts With "L"

**Author's Note:**

> I know this is really late, but I actually didn't want to write anything for Yuuri's birthday because I was busy. But well, there was so much amazing art on tumblr I just couldn't help myself so please have this

 

 

 

When Yuuri opens his eyes, it feels like a normal day.  
  
He clicks his tongue annoyed at the loud, overly cheerful ringtone of his phone and squints at the bright screen as turns the alarm off. Sighing, he stares at the familiar ceiling of his room and for a second he feels reverted to back when he was unsure about what to do with his future, what the next day would bring.  
  
With a sudden clearly that drives away the remaining hazy sleepiness Yuuri realizes that today, he‘s a year older.  
  
25.  
  
That‘s not old. Most people would call him young. The average lifespan of a man is 80, so now Yuuri has only lived a quarter of his whole life. But somehow it feels like he already lived his most important, most rewarding and exciting years.  
  
Soon, way quicker than anyone will think because building something takes so much more time than destroying it and seeing in collapse into dust, there will be more cracking joints and hurting knees, and his pale bend body will be so battered from all the excessive amount of training training training and also living that it will be useless for the thing he loves. For the man he loves.

  
He sits up and closes his eyes, trying to breathe. The pulse in his temples is overpowering, and it feels like his lungs are caving on his heart, squeezing it in a hot grip he can‘t escape.  
  
He tries to take a deep breath, tries to be cautious of the air in his lungs and hold it in, and even though he _knows_ it‘s there, _has_ to be there because he can feel it stroking over his opened mouth, it feels shallow and empty. It feels like drinking water while starving.  
  
Not enough, not helping, not satisfying.  
  
_It‘s okay._

  
Yuuri closes his eyes, his heart hammering in his chest, and he listens in the quietness of his room to his breathing, dismantling the sensations one by one. His window is cracked and cold air is streaming in and it's giving him goosebumps. His body is fine and safe and warm. His hands on his knees are too hot. It's still dark outside. It‘s 6 am. He‘s in his room. Wait, he isn‘t- he‘s in _their_ room. If he would turn the light on Yuuri would see Viktor‘s suitcase at the foot of the bed. _He‘s safe. _ If he would bury his face in his pillow, he would smell the sweet expensive fragrance of Viktor‘s perfume, and he could see the marks he left on Viktor‘s body.  
  
_He‘s fine._  
  
There are countless notifications on his phone that make his anxiety flare up again, because it‘s so much to _ do_, but he tries not to think about it and instead focus on his body, on his breathing as he walks into the bathroom.  
  
Yuuri never particularly liked his birthday. 

Especially when he was younger it always meant one thing: Puberty. He remembers feeling his own growing body with his too tight skin, remember the silvery and purplish stretchmarks from growing so ridiculously fast, remembers the growing pains and the mood swings and the times his family knocked worriedly on the bathroom door.  
  
And of course he also remembers the countless failed jumps that weren‘t his strong point to begin with, remembers bruises and crying and awkwardness that felt like it confined his whole self into this compact overly cautious boy with glasses that left imprints on his still chubby cheeks.  
  
In a sense, he‘ll going through a second round of puberty when he‘s older. But instead of being build up and becoming tall and strong his body will dismantle itself slowly, like the crumbling dust from ruins, or the way Viktor sheds his jinbei over his pale shoulders. 

It will be achingly slow.  
  
Yuuri doesn‘t like his birthday.  
  
When he gets up and brushes his teeth, he‘s suddenly reminded of the birthdays in Detroit, thinks of surprise parties in the dark, how he was too shy to say no to expensive gifts, remembers the Skype calls with his family and how they all looked so tiny and unreal and how his heart ached with homesickness.  
  
And when he undresses he feels worry clenching uncomfortably in his gut, and the fact that he even worries makes him feel guilty.  
  
Yuuri knows that Viktor can be too much sometimes, and he loves his dramatic sides.  
  
Loves it when he sighs and puts the back of his hand to his forehead like a victorian woman in a too tight corset, loves it when he pretends to get weak in the knees so Yuuri gives him a piggy back ride and how he whispers filthy things in his ear then, his hot breath tickling him, loves how he pretends to be shocked and his loud gasp.  
  
And yet he‘s still afraid that whatever Viktor has planned will be so over the top that it‘s simply _too much_. He knows how Viktor loves to spoil him, knows all about that wonderful tenderness when he washes Yuuri‘s hair or how he smiles when he puts lip balm on Yuuri‘s lips. But there is this strange vulnerability that comes with birthdays, comes with getting older and all Yuuri wants is quietness and maybe drinking with his friends and family in the evening.

When Yuuri walks down the corridor he hears faint giggling and then small feet patter over wooden flooring. Yuuri bites his lip, not managing to suppress his smile. He tries to walk down the stairs as slowly as possibly to give the others a few more seconds.  
  
There‘s soft yellow lighting that makes the stairs in front of him barely visible. His socks touch the floor, and it makes a creaking sound.  
  
Yuuri breathes and looks up.  
  
Yuuko beams at him while Nishigori tries to hold all triples in his arms at once. It reminds Yuuri so much of when they were kids, teenagers and now even adults because after years and years they're still together. His breath gets stuck in his throat.  
  
Mari smiles and even her little dimple in her right cheek shows, and the fact that she even woke up this terribly early just for him moves him.  
  
Minako is also smiling at Yuuri, and she even went through the trouble of straightening her hair. For what feels like the first time Yuuri notices faint lines around her smiling mouth and the crinkles around her eyes, and somehow it seems like she was too proud to age and only allows it on special occasions. Now, Minako isn‘t his ballet teacher, but his second mother.  
  
The lines of her face are mirrored in the faces of his parents, and in all their shining, loving glory Yuuri sees himself and sees his future and it‘s scary until it isn‘t, because they‘re happy and it‘s so amazingly tangible he just has to reach his hands out and grasp it. 

Yuuri knows he caused a lot of these lines and crinkles. Some out of anger, others out of sadness but also laughter. They‘re the testimony of his life.  
  
He left his marks on these people just how they left theirs on him.

In the midst of them all is Viktor.  
  
Lovely, gorgeous Viktor as he smiles softly, and he can feel the gazes of his loved ones and they‘re happy and smiling, and he‘s so overwhelmed with love that the barely perceives all the congratulations.  
  
After everyone hugged him tightly, Viktor suddenly clears his throat.  
  
„So,“ he says as his eyes flicker almost nervously, „Yuuri, I know you don‘t like fancy gifts and I was debating for a long time what I should get you, but through the help of your amazing family and friends we could- make something I hope you‘ll enjoy.“  
  
Viktor smiles then, and when Yuuri sees it he‘s alarmed for a split-second because it looks so similar to his fake smile. But then again, it doesn‘t. There‘s something strange and new in his face, a vulnerability and nervousness in the line of his shoulders and mouth, and Yuuri can‘t tell why until Viktor unfolds a piece of paper.  
  
He takes a deep, shaky breath in the dimly lit room.  
  
„Yuuri,“ he says, „You‘re my fiance, my love and my light, my everything.“  
  
He stares at Viktor with wide eyes. Slowly he turns his head and looks at the others, all of them wearing the same proud, mischievous smile.  
  
How could he not realize that Viktor was learning Japanese?  
  
Now all the glances and the whispering and all the times Viktor needed to be alone make so much more sense. 

„Surprisingly, it‘s not that easy to write this letter because I just have so much to tell you. There are so many things I admire about you Yuuri, and I think they all have in common that they all show how you‘re so full of strength. Before I met you, I used to think that I was strong, independent, and it felt like the only thing that could ever stop me was myself. But Yuuri, you‘re strong without shutting everyone out. You found strength in relying on others if you need to, and I love that you know what you want and always do your best to accomplish your goals.“  
  
A thing Yuuri somehow completely forgot was how big the differences between English and Japanese actually are. After years of speaking it daily he got used to it, speaks and thinks and loves in English, and it‘s a part of him, natural like air. That‘s what he thought at least. But all the fine nuances of Japanese that just got lost in the English language are right there, on Viktor‘s tongue, with a Russian accent and only for him.  
  
„You‘re sincere and strong, and you‘re stubborn and determined to the point that it almost scares me because I can‘t keep up. Now I understand why Yakov was always this stressed.“ Besides Yuuri, his mother laughs wetly and squeezes his hand, a silent confirmation.  
  
„I didn‘t know at first what to think of you because you were so different from the time at the banquet- but over time, I realized that this was not the real, not the usual you. You were shy and insecure and skittish and anxious, and so much more real than I ever hoped you‘d be.“ Viktor sniffles and yet smiles as he wipes a stray tear away.  
  
„You‘re see-through, Yuuri. You do everything so sincerely, so genuinely and with a strength that most people maybe don't immediately see, but it‘s there. And I can‘t thank you enough for letting me in and letting your walls down and that- that you saved my passion, my career. _Me_.  You‘re so greedy for life Yuuri, and there are not enough words to express just how happy I am that I can help you reach the things you want. There‘s nothing left to say except:  
  
I love you.“ 

_This is unfai r_, Yuuri thinks and wipes frantically on his face, his glasses pushed up into his hair. It‘s unfair hat Viktor gets to say all these amazing things, can just dismantle him so carefully like pulling loose threads apart. He sobs, and he knows he‘s not being quiet at all but when he looks up he sees his mom clutching the jumper of his dad tightly, their shoulders shaking, and Nishigori hides his face in the soft hair of one of his daughters.  
  
„Viktor,“ Yuuri sobs, and then with even more desperation " _Vitya,_ " trembling fingers outstretched to finally pull him close, to kiss him, to mutter words back to him that can hopefully make him come undone in the same way.  
  
„I‘m not done yet,“ Viktor says and smiles, eyes swimming in tears.  
  
He takes another shaky breath, and his smile trembles so much that it breaks your heart.  
  
„Mama, papa, I want to thank you for giving me Yuuri and for being there for him and supporting him without a second thought, and I- I want to take care of him just the way you did. I promise I‘ll make him happy.“ Viktor is crying so much his shoulders shake and his chin scrunches up in childlike desperation.  
  
„Mari, I want to thank you for being such a wonderful big sister and protecting him. And Minako for being his teacher and giving him all the time he needed to practice, for believing in him and encouraging to skate because otherwise we wouldn‘t even have met. And I want to thank the Nishigori family for being such an amazing support and a lovely family and being his closest friends, and of course for uploading the video of Yuuri.“  
  
Yuuri rushes forward and kisses Viktor, all soft pliantness on his mouth, and he tries to savor the taste until he‘ll even remember this when he‘s 80, or 90 or even 100. There‘s this kind of desperation that comes with tears and candlelight, and Yuuri never felt more treasured in his life than in this everlasting moment.  
  
Sadly, time moves on and they part, have to part because his mom is bringing the birthday cake in, and the sizzling of the sparklers sounds like fizzy soda as it flickers over the whole room, and Yuuri is again overwhelmed with this almost tangible feeling of love, and it feels like he can just press it close and _oh_ how he wants.  
  
„Happy birthday!“  
  
Yuuri laughs wetly, and Viktor presses a kiss to his temple.  
  
Before he blows the candles out he locks eyes with Viktor, watches the gleam of his face and the wonderful crinkling of the corners of his mouth, and for the first time in his life, he doesn‘t wish for not falling at a jump in competition, doesn‘t wish for less pain and more medals and more success.  
  
When Yuuri puckers his lips, all he can think of is:  
  
_ Please you gods, make Viktor happy._

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading ❤❤❤
> 
> My tumblr is www.its-peach-bleach.tumblr.com


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